The Forgotten Meeting
by YamiBlueberry-chan
Summary: What if America met Maxon before she entered the Selection but they never realized it? Set 9 years back to the past. Carolina is opening a new school and the Royal family are their special guests. A certain prince sees a little girl playing on the street and he instantly becomes... interested in her. Who says love doesn't spark below 13? Pairing? MAXERICA!
1. Chapter 1

_**A Selection Fanfiction: A Forgotten Meeting**_

**Me: Hello! This is just another Selection Fanfiction. This idea just popped up while I was "studying" and since I won't be updating "Going Back to the One" in a long while, here's a treat for you guys. **

**And the best thing is the pairing in this story is MAXERICA! YEAH!**

**FANGIRL TIME!**

**I just really wanted to write about them when they were younger so... yeah. Ad it would be cool if they already met but they didn't even realize it.**

**This will be written in the 3****rd**** POV okay?**

**Disclaimer – I do not own the Selection Trilogy by Kiera Cass, I can never be as talented as her.**

**Enjoy the story!**

o-o-o

_The Palace – 9 years before the Selection_

A ten-year old boy is in front of a large mirror twice his normal size. A maid is behind him, beaming as she combs the boy's golden hair.

"You're such a handsome young boy!" she cheers, pinching the boy's cheeks. The boy rolls his chocolate-brown eyes at her, taking the maids fingers off his reddening cheek. "I'm not a young boy. I'm ten years old."

The maid giggles. "Of course you are Your Majesty. You're a gentleman." She gives one last stroke of the comb on his hair and adjusts the boy's collar. "Have fun in your flight Your Majesty. You must be excited."

The boy stares at the reflection of the woman behind him. "No I'm not," he says in a monotone voice. "Who would be excited to visit such a small province?"

A hand patted his head and he heard the maid laughing as she left him in his room. He jumped on his bed very childlike and hugged his pillow.

His father was invited to the opening ceremony for the new school he had built in Carolina. He wanted to look generous and caring even to those small provinces of Illea. Keeping his image was a very important task for him and Maxon did not want to go out of the palace gates just so his father can keep his "image".

No, he wasn't excited at all. He didn't want to leave the palace. He didn't want to leave the place he was trapped in for so long.

It wasn't because he loved the place so much; it was because he was scared of the world outside the palace gates.

He's experienced rebel attacks when he was younger and each time left him with a traumatic experience. It had caused him nightmares about him being kidnapped by a rebel and being beaten to death. Gunshots, as frequent as they were, still made his spine stiffen. One attack scarred him more than the others:

o-o-o

_The Garden – 3 years ago_

_The siren sounded. It was the first rebel attack he has experienced, so he didn't understand what the loud wailing sound meant._

_The boy was taking pictures of the fresh flowers as a man showed up by his side. He was only 7 then. How naive can a young child be? Very. _

_The old man was in uniform, a guard's uniform. The boy was too trusting all too quickly. The man sat beside him and the young boy welcomed him wholeheartedly. "What's your name little boy?" the man asked._

"_My name is Maxon Calix Schreave, the prince of Illea!" he said proudly, putting down his camera. "I like being a prince. It can be lonely though." He pointed at the jewellery resting on the top of his head. Its gems reflected the light in ways that made them look much more valuable. "And the crown I have to wear all day is heavy."_

_The man let out a tiny laugh that sounded mechanical. "Is that so? Well, you don't have to be lonely anymore." The way he said it sounded like he was proposing a deal. _

_Maxon lit up. "I don't?"_

"_Yes, because __**I'll**__ be your friend," he said, his voice soft and innocent._

_Two arms are wrapped around the man, courtesy of Maxon. His smiled reached his eyes and his laugh was the happiest it could ever be. "Really?" he asked in astonishment. "Thank you very much! I finally have a new friend!" He let go and jumped to his feet._

"_This is the best day ever!" he cheered, grabbing the camera hanging from his neck. The man's eyes grew dark and Maxon couldn't see them because he was facing the other way. A sinister smile formed around wrinkles and a large __**body bag **__emerged from behind him. The man stood up, tiptoeing toward the small boy too happy to sense the incoming danger._

_Maxon turned off the flash function of his camera and twisted the lens to make the image zoom out. "Hey, mister, let's take a picture to—"_

_He turned around and he clicked the button on the camera in surprise before letting it fall on the ground. Brown cloth filled his muffled vision and he felt his body being carried upside down. An evil laugh filled his ears as he realized he was inside a bag. Maxon kicked and punched and screamed. All his efforts remained useless. A rope closed the opening of the bag by his feet and his surroundings became dark. The bag was soaked in sweat and tears as Maxon whimpered inside._

_He felt hopeless, helpless and most of all... stupid. He fell for such a pathetic lie in desperation for a friend. He called for his mother countless of times, only resulting in a punch in the gut from the man who pretended to be his "friend". _

_The man, however, was as joyous as ever. Now that he had the prince, he could get ransom. Money, jewels, power... the king and queen cared too much for their child to not give him what he wants. But most of all, he wanted the journal. The journal of Gregory Illea. He wanted to show the citizens that Gregory was a heartless monster that did not really care about the country and his methods are brought forth from selfishness and cruelty, not from care and nationalism. He was an Eight. A rebel cast out from society for fighting for his rights._

_Little did he know, kidnapping a young and clueless child did not make him any better than Gregory himself._

_Boom..._

_A bullet passes through his arm and the man yelps in pain, dropping the bag on the ground. _

_Maxon's heart was beating so fast it felt like it was about to explode. The boy screams, hits his head and loses consciousness as he watches a red liquid fall on his cheeks and coats his hair._

_Handcuffs get the victim; a stretcher carries the prince; tears fill a mother's eyes; shouts come out of a king's mouth._

_His father made hardened the boy's heart after that experience, teaching him to be brave and to move on. He can walk around the gardens again. Whenever rebels come, it's always protocol: find a safe room. Fear starts to fade from his soul. Even so, that doesn't mean that that fear will forever be erased from him. It became a part of his individuality and he has to live with it._

_Forever._

o-o-o

A knock was heard on Maxon's door and he didn't bother answering it. A beautiful woman appeared from behind it. She had long, silky hair and soft eyes. Her skin was fair and its complexion matched the yellow dress she wore perfectly. Maxon hid his face under his pillow and he felt the weight of his bed shift.

"Maxon, honey. You don't have to be afraid," she says kindly. "You know why you have to go. Besides, there are no reported rebels in Carolina."

Maxon looked up, his eyes tired. "But mom," he says like a whiny 4-year old, "why can't you and father go to the opening of the new school yourselves? You never used to make me come with you to those fancy ceremonies."

"You know what your father said—"

"_You're the future king of Illea, Maxon. What kind of king is afraid to set foot on his own country, Maxon?" _He cuts her off rudely and quickly apologizes. "S-Sorry, it's just that..."

She puts a hand on his shoulder. Her eyes are shining with compassion and the way her lips curved showed how much she cared. "I know that your father tends to pressure you a lot but, he just wants what's best for both you and his country," she says. "And whether you accept it or not, he's still right about you being too afraid. I promise you, son. You'll enjoy this trip."

Maxon asks hesitantly, eyebrows knotting. "And if I don't?"

A small snort comes out of her mother's mouth. "You will." She stands up and holds Maxon's small hand. "Now," she starts, "let's get on our plane."

Maxon nods, not knowing what awaited him in Carolina.

o-o-o

_Carolina Academy – the next day_

Thousands of screams enter Maxon's ears and he wonders why he hasn't gone deaf yet. He almost crushed the arm rest on the miniature replica of a throne he sat on beside his mother while his father babbled on with his speech because of how nervous he was.

"Citizens of Carolina, this school, which will be the turning point of this small province to a life of prosperity, is a product of my men's devotion and hard work. Made from the sturdiest and most efficient resources, this school is worthy enough for even my son, Prince Maxon Calix Schreave, to have his education in if only it was possible." His eyes catch Maxon's panicked gaze. The intensity of Clarkson's glare seem to have scared the poor child, who quickly sat up straighter, even more.

He continues. "For the lower castes, don't fret. This school will accept scholarships for studious children once they pass a special test. Enrolment will start as early as next week." He is handed a peculiarly large pair of scissors. "Now, without any further delay..." A thick long ribbon is tied around the gate, each end knotted around one of the gate's bars. He cuts it slowly, for the cloth is tough. Once the last thread is snipped, the citizens of Carolina cheer.

Gavril, who looks positively more attractive because of the few years lost in him, he holds up a mike to his lips and quiets down the crowd. "Everyone who is willing to stay and watch the performance, please proceed to the newly constructed gym now." He points at the large dome behind the school that is almost as large as the school. Nothing less if they expect to fit thousands of people inside.

Maxon loses his grip and grasps Amberly's arm instead. "

We have to get in the car," she says, removing the hair covering her son's eyes.

Maxon stands up, joints stiff. "When will the 'enjoying' part be exactly?" he asks. "Because I've been here for a few hours already and I think that I'm going to experience high blood pressure at the age of ten." He stares at the crowd in front of him. So... many... people...

_Are any of them rebels?_

Yes, this was a naive question if you think about it. You can't blame the boy for being afraid of getting captured by... _them_ again. He holds on to his mother's hands until both their fingers are white. Clarkson passes his son and gives his shoulder a tight squeeze. It was not an action meant to comfort, in fact it was an action meant to reprimand.

_Stop being so stiff, Maxon. _The young prince could probably hear his father say that through his fingertips.

They step into the car; silence overwhelms them as the car brings them to the gym for the program. Traffic was evident because of the number of cars in the road. The cars moved only an inch every 30 minutes. Maxon sighed under his fist on his mouth and stared out the window. He sees three kids, 2 boys about his age and one girl.

His eyes fixed themselves on the little girl. She has red strawberry-like hair swinging on her shoulders as she runs with one of the boys. Her blue eyes sparkled, like the blue sun dress she was wearing. It reached just above her knees, the ruffles dancing along as the girl ran. The dress had short puffy sleeves on them, a dark blue ribbon encircled her tiny waist and her shoes looked like crystal. The smile on her face was the finishing touch. She hardly had any makeup on, but her sparkling white teeth and the radiating happiness in her grin made her more beautiful than the models found in magazines.

Her arm is wrapped around a boy in his black-crowned glory. His soft green eyes stared at the girl with the same awe as our little prince, though one thing was in his eyes the prince didn't have: Care.

The red-head never admitted it to anyone but... she has always felt a little spark or connection between her and the black-haired boy. He was one of the only reasons she tried to act girly once in her life. This was our sweet little America, crushing on the younger version of our beloved guard, Aspen.

Maxon glanced at his father, to make sure he wasn't looking, and he lowered the window just an inch.

He heard the girl cheer, "Kota!" she turned to the boy staggering behind them. "Hurry up!"

The boy, Kota, glanced at her, mischief in his eyes. He ran faster, overtaking the girl and the other boy, separating their hold on each other. America chased her older brother in circles until a cranky woman showed up, eyebrows knotted, teeth gritted and fist clenched.

Before Maxon could hear any scolding be done, his mother noticed the warm air replacing the cold air inside the car. She closed the window immediately, causing Maxon to pout and cross his arms in disappointment.

He, hoping that he could read lips, pressed his hands on the window.

"AMERICA AND KOTA SINGER!" The woman shouted. She went closer and grabbed her children by the collar, gently of course. "You naughty little— Kota, stop playing with your sister. You're going to get her all sweaty before the big performance. The Royal family will be watching us. _The Royal Family._" She emphasized the term. "This is the biggest gig we have had all year and I want this to be perfect." She leaned to her daughter's ear. "_Absolutely perfect. _Do you understand?"

America nods quickly and her mother, Magda, let's go of both her daughter and her brother's collars. Aspen giggles from behind and America gives him a stare; he doesn't shut up.

Kota elbows him; only then does he remain quiet. Aspen turns and runs to his awaiting mother and father, who were glad that they are able to earn so much because of the extra jobs they acquired from the visit from the Royal family. His father hands him a fist to bump. Aspen laughs and rides on his father's back.

Maxon understood nothing from his attempt to read lips. All he understood was the peaceful image of a happy family in front of him. _How can he be so casual with his father? _He thought. Maxon was never allowed to even crack a joke in front of his father unless he wanted a scolding.

He shook the sad feeling away. His eyes are locked on America now. He can't seem to explain his sudden interest towards a girl he hasn't even spoken to yet. He secretly hopes for a chance to speak with her.

When he sees the people, he is hardly afraid because of the knowledge that the wall of a car separates him from the outside. Now, he just wants to tear that wall away.

He sees a tall man, America's father, Shalom, walking towards them, a small 5-year old girl in his arms. The small girl and America have a striking resemblance, the prince notices. Who is this girl?

You guessed it!

It's May.

"Ames!" The small girl calls out. America opens her arms and catches May in a hug. "You've gotten heavy," she points out.

May's mouth forms a straight line. "No I didn't. I'm as light as a feather."

"Sure you are." America says sarcastically.

Maxon watches the siblings laugh and jealousy surges through him. Why couldn't _he _have siblings? Why did he have to be alone all the time?

Just as he was getting much more interested, the car jerked forward. The traffic jam moved in the most inconvenient time. He kept his eyes on the red-headed girl in a blue dress as they drove farther away, her eyes the last things he sees.

He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, keeping himself entertained with the image of the girl that made this trip much more enjoyable for him.

_When will I see her again, I wonder?_

o-o-o

**Me: I just realized I like writing in the 3****rd**** POV. **

**So, how did you like younger Maxon? Or younger Aspen? Or younger America?**

**The pairing, like I said is Maxerica. So don't worry about a thing. I'll make this short so I can continue my other Selection story.**

**R&R!**

**Bye! Love you guys!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Forgotten Meeting Chapter 2**_

**Me: Back with more cuteness and innocence! I felt all light and fluffy while I was writing this. Aw, I feel like eating cotton candy now, or maybe some marshmallows, in the form of s'mores. Mmm…**

**While I go hunting in my house's fridge, have fun reading Chapter 2!**

**Disclaimer – I do not own The Selection Trilogy, all rights go to Kiera Cass.**

x-x-x

"Blah… blah… Carolina… blah… school... history… blah…"

This is all Maxon hears as he walks with the rest of the citizens of Carolina during the tour of the new school. He's paid attention for a few hours now, now his attention span gave up on him, bringing his ears down with it. He pleaded to his mother to just hit him in the head with a hammer. It would probably hurt a lot less than the migraine he was getting due to sheer boredom.

Amberly's answer was always the same sentence each and every time: "It'll be over before you know it."

_Yes, _Maxon thinks, _this tour will end without me knowing it because I'll fall asleep before it does._

He desperately wished to do anything than listen to the old lady who was supposed to be their tour guide. Her voice was meant to be used for telling bedtime stories, not interestingly factual information, even _if _she was using a microphone mesh.

However, right now, he would've stuck up with this tour for the rest of the day if he'd known what he was about to get into.

He got separated from the group when he leaned down the wall as the tour guide explained the content of the large painting of his home, the palace. He closed his eyes for just a moment and he fell asleep, falling into the open locker beside him. The crowd consisted of almost 1/5 of the province's population so no one even noticed that he was being left behind. When he woke up, which was less than quarter an hour later, he found a janitor staring at him. He stood up to quickly and he hit his head. He groaned as the janitor helped him up.

"For the love of— what were you doing in there, son?" he asks loudly. The janitor had grayish stubble on his chin and cheeks, matching his silver crown and wrinkles. "For a minute there, I thought this ole thing was being haunted." He grabbed Maxon's shaking arm. "Now go on and get!" The man had a broom that was being swayed, indicating the boy that he should leave.

Maxon's instincts took in quickly and all he could hear was the laugh of the evil man that almost succeeded kidnapping him as a child. He let out a scream and before the janitor could notice, the young prince was already running a few yards away.

The boy stopped, catching his breath. He scanned the surroundings and gulped.

_Where was he?_

He keeps walking around, going forwards, sidewards, even backwards in desperation. "Why did the school have to be so big?" he thought to himself.

He wasn't sure of where he was, what time it was, or even if he was still sane. One thing was for certain: He was lost.

Fear was like a blizzard, freezing him until his feet were so close to being frozen solid.

After a few minutes, which were a few hours in his perspective, he heard humming. It was supposed to sound like a beautiful song; the sound kept bouncing on the walls, making the song echo in his ears the most frightening way possible.

His knees in his chest, he leans down on the locker for support.

The sound seems to be getting louder. Closer.

Tears filled the tips of his eyes and he slowly whimpered, 50% grateful that no one was there to see him have a panic attack. The other half? He was terrified, biting his trembling lip and asking God why he had to be scarred like this.

"G-Go away..." he whispered.

"Go away," this time his voice was even louder. "Please…"

His face was covered by his arms as he hugged himself tightly, thinking that that would protect him from what he thought was "danger".

A small hand placed itself on his shoulder and he shrieks. He shrieks better than your little sister ever could.

He pushes away the person in front of him and he hears a groan. He wipes his eyes and his vision clears.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!" the offender shouts, rubbing the sore part of her back.

Maxon sees anger in those pair of blue eyes.

Wait... blue eyes? He narrows his own eyes and stares at the girl, before gasping in shock. He instinctively walks backward and hits his back on the locker, rattling it loudly.

The girl laughs, her red hair swaying. "Serves you right."

x-x-x

**Me: That's all for today. Sorry, tests and blah. I just love imagining a quivering 10 year old Maxon. He looks soooo cute. **

**Anyway, I'll be back with a new chapter next week probably. BYE!**

**RnR!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Forgotten Meeting Chapter 3**_

**Me: Back with Chapter 3! Yay! It's obvious who Maxon accidentally pushed, well duh… who would **_**not **_**guess right?**

**((The red hair and blue eyes are the dead giveaways.))**

**Anyway, enjoy reading!**

**Disclaimer – I don't own the Selection Trilogy, all rights go to its respectful owner.**

o-o-o

"_Serves you right."_

Maxon examines the girl, too caught up in her beautiful features to be able to feel the aching of his back… or the fear of the fact he's still lost. The girl starts to feel uncomfortable by the way the prince's brown eyes gazed at her, making her grip her small backpack straps.

Seeing that he won't be stopping anytime soon, she snapped her fingers a few inches from the boy's face saying, "Um… hello?"

No reaction.

She claps this time. "Hey, anyone in there?"

Still nothing.

She goes to drastic measures. She screams, "Earth to blonde head!"… While grabbing the boy's cheeks, squeezing his face.

Maxon, his lips now pouted, blinks quickly. "Huh? What?" He puts his hands on his face and feels foreign skin instead of his own. He follows the arms holding him and catches the angry gaze of the beautiful girl's eyes. His face turns hot.

"Don't 'Huh? What?' me," the girl says angrily, rolling her eyes and letting his cheeks go and making air quotes in the air. "Aren't you going to apologize to me you know… like a _respectful _person?" She rubs her right ear. "And for trying to make me deaf?"

As if by reflex, Maxon bows his head, covering the blush on his face. "Please accept my sincere apology for showing such insolent behavior." He says it in the most serious tone he could muster. He attempts to go down on one knee but he sees a bee fly by a few inches from his nose. He shrieks, not screams but _shrieks_, moves back, slips and falls on his side. Hard.

She stares at him, blue eyes so wide, pupils so small. She was dumbfounded.

Half a minute later, the girl snorts slowly, covering her mouth with her fist. She bites her trembling lip, trying to trap the laughter forming inside of her.

She releases it.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" She clutches her stomach.

Maxon quickly sits on his knees and his whole body warms up and becomes scarlet. He does his best to say sorry like she said and he even hurts himself by doing. And what does he get?

A girl whose laugh is slowly degrading him of self-dignity.

His mouth gapes open and he is in too much shock and embarrassment, forgetting his ability of speech.

"S-Stop laughing!" he finally yells, getting up. He wipes the dirt off his pants and glares at the girl in front of him.

The girl ignores him and continues until she's hitting her chest repeatedly now. "I-It hurts," she wheezes. Her mouth is opened wide, sucking air in.

Not knowing what was going on for he has never experienced the painful yet satisfying feeling of getting a laugh cramp, Maxon panics and grabs the girl's shoulders. "A-Are you alright?" He asks. "Where does it hurt?"

The girl takes a deep breath in and exhales loudly, holding on to her sides. "N-No," she says. "I'm good." She turns and sees the boys flustered and freaked out face and she laughs out loud again. When you just stopped laughing, it's easy to do it again.

Maxon notices the tears forming in her blue eyes. "Wait, are you _crying_?" he asks, "W-What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

She chuckles until she's coughing now. Maxon pats her back gently and when he sees her not yet stopping (after a few seconds)…

He sweeps the girl off her feet, his arms supporting her legs and neck.

The red head's face turns into the same color as her hair. "H-Hey—you!" She coughs. "What the—?" She continues coughing and her throat itches. She's not laughing anymore.

"Put me —_cough_— down!" she screams, mid-cough. She stops talking and words are replaced by strained coughing sounds. She can barely hear them anyway; they are too busy being overpowered by her beating heart.

Maxon ignores her requests and he scans the hallway. He runs, the girl bouncing in his arms. Stray locks of hair cover her eyes as Maxon keeps carrying her.

The prince stops near a box-like metal structure. On top of the structure were a drain and 2 nozzles for water to come out. One was short and the other was shaped like a cane, a knob attached to it. By the floor was a metal step. It was a water fountain.

He gently set the girl on her feet and he put his foot on the metal step. Water came out of the smaller nozzle. The girl removed the hair from her eyes and leaned down, letting the water go in her mouth. Maxon rubbed the girl's back slowly, hoping it would help. Once she was done drinking, she wiped her lips with her dress sleeve and put her hair behind her shoulders, letting the curls fall softly on her back. Maxon backed away, removing his hand from her back.

The girl turned to Maxon, her cheeks pink from embarrassment. She has never been carried like a princess before. And the worst is…

She only realized _now _how rude she was for suddenly laughing in the boy's face like that, especially after he was just trying to apologize. He even carried her to a water fountain just so that she'd stop coughing.

"You're a good guy after all," she says, playing with her fingers behind her back. "I'm sorry for laughing so hard."

Maxon shakes his head and waves his hands in denial. "No, no," he says, "don't be sorry. You're not at fault. I'm sorry for _making _you laugh so hard."

America stares at him in amazement. The boy's too humble for his own good. "You're funny," she remarks. "I like you."

She didn't notice it but what she said painted pink tints of Maxon's cheeks.

She reaches out her hand to him. "I'm America."

Maxon accepts her hand. "I'm M—"

He pauses, not sure if he should reveal his real name to her just yet. She seemed friendly but… could she be trusted?

After a short minute he quickly says, "Mason. My name is Mason." America gives their hands a light shake. "Nice to meet you, Mason."

An awkward silence settles among them once they let go of each other's hands. America twirls her hair around her little finger and Maxon focuses on an invisible point on the ceiling, shyly putting his hands in his pockets.

"You were humming a nice song earlier…" Maxon points out softly, wanting to break the silence.

America gives him a surprised look. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, you have a really pretty voice."

"N-No I don't." America counters. She never really believed in her abilities even when she was a child.

Maxon smiles at the girl's modesty. "Yes you do."

"Well, thanks. I appreciate your lie." She gives him a warm smile. Maxon notices the hint of sadness in it.

"Who says I'm lying?"

America's eyes widen and she coughs once or twice. Maxon lightly touches her shoulder. "What's wrong? Do you need to drink some more?"

"No, I'm fine, kid." She answers, a little more coldly than she meant to.

A hurt expression settles on Maxon's face. "Well, I'm sorry for caring." He crosses his arms. "And who are you calling a _kid_? I'm technically older than you."

"How do you know that? You don't even know my age."

"Okay then, how old _are_ you?"

"Eight."

"Hah!" Maxon childishly jumps and points a victorious finger at her; a mischievous smile forms on his face. "I'm ten."

America rolls her eyes and scoffs, "Show-off."

Maxon covers his mouth with his sleeve and he does something he rarely ever does: he laughs. He seems to enjoy the spontaneous movements and sounds he makes when he is amused. The palace is a very quiet and solitary place, even though it's so big. There's not much to giggle about.

A small buzzing sound alerts them both, causing them to hop a little from shock.

"W-What was that?" Maxon asks, gripping his hands to stop them from shaking. The sound, as soft as it is, reminds him of the rebel alarms at home.

An alarm _did _go off… from America's wrist watch.

"Calm down Mason," she says, "it's just my watch." She glances at her blue leather watch and examines the two hands that indicate the time. Maxon breathes out a sigh of relief. America's eyes widen and she quickly presses the small silver button on the side of the metal face of the watch, silencing the alarm,

"I'm sorry but," she's hopping on her toes now, ready to run. "I really have to go."

"Eh? H-Hey, wait—"

America's already running away before Maxon can grab her. He chases after her, panting from running too much in one day. His fingers feel America's wrist and he grabs it, not letting her go away. America whips her head back, her heart pounding in her chest. She narrows her eyes. "What's your problem? Can't you see I'm in a hurry?"

Maxon steps back, still holding her wrist. He scratches the back of his neck, _still _holding her wrist. "Um… It's just that… uh… well…"

America taps her foot in impatience. "For goodness' sake, spit it out!" She demands.

Maxon gives her a cute and goofy smile, making the girl's face warm. He laughs an embarrassed laugh.

"I'm lost…"

o-o-o

**Me: Sorry for the short chapter and if I'm not good at writing… **

**But I do hope that you guys still enjoy my story. **

**I got the inspiration for the #YoungAmerica'sLaughAttack scene during our turnover. We watched a video of the Seniors when they were young, embarrassing pictures included of course. I laughed out loud when I saw my upperclassmen in their younger years doing whatever mischief they do as kids. And a video of our teachers who were congratulating the Seniors and in the end were bloopers. My CLE teacher was saying congrats when a large bee flew by and he almost fell over from shock. It made me laugh even more when he explained that the bee was like the future, it was unexpected. To put it like this he explained the presence of the bee. My stomach and chest was hurting and what made me cough was when the Senior behind me kept laughing like a deranged monkey that escaped a mental hospital. I was much more amused by her laugh than the video actually.**

**Then I thought, what would a prince who had next to zero experience of laughing react in front of a girl who was having laugh cramps?**

**Okay, just sharing… **

**So, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and please be patient and wait for the next one. The next chapter will probably be the most fun to write because that's when their friendship grows and becomes something really special. **

**Review if you like and just keep supporting this story.**

**Bye! Love you guys!**

**Next chapter preview: (just a little treat)**

_**The red color made him weak to the knees. Especially when the sun shined making the color much more sparkling and dazzling? It was endless temptation. Maxon looked into those blue gems in awe, examining how the light reflects on the sugary objects. He slowly scoops, still examining as he brings his sweet closer to his mouth. He has a taste. A small yet satisfying taste that resonates evenly in his mouth as he presses down his lips and palate.**_

_**He suddenly craves for more.**_

_**He moves closer and this time he doesn't hesitate. He doesn't hold back. He greedily gets more, his mouth filled with such a wonderful sensation he can't even explain the happiness coursing through him.**_

"_**So…" America says, her voice muffled and out of breath. "D-Did you like that?"**_

"_**Yes..." Maxon answers. He nods slowly, savoring every single second and moment. "Yes I did."**_

__**_o-o-o_**

**Me: No, this is not a mistake. That really IS the next chapter preview. One tip for you guys: Remember their AGES.**

**That's all.**


End file.
